Domesticities, Chapter 4
by Lorien-Eve
Summary: Harry and Ron have just left Hogwarts, and Harry moves into the Burrow. It doesn't take long for them to realize they need a place of their own.


A stray beam of moonlight snuck through the thin fabric of Ron's curtains, causing Harry to wake with a jolt. He looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was almost 12:30. He hadn't intended to fall asleep, but cuddling with Ron made him feel so comfortable, so content, he couldn't help but linger longer than he knew he should have. He got up slowly, careful not to wake Ron, and silently crept over to his own bed on the floor. He hoped no one had seen him in Ron's bed. He knew they'd have a lot of explaining to do if anyone had seen them, and even though Ron planned on talking to his parents about them, he didn't want anyone to find out before he could tell them. Harry snuggled under his blankets, thinking about what Ron had to do later on. Harry almost wished he could take Ron's place and do it himself. He knew Ron loved him, but he also knew that Ron had to be terrified about how his family would react. Harry went back to sleep an hour or so later, and slept fitfully until Ron woke him.  
  
"Harry, hey, wake up." Ron shook his shoulder gently.  
  
Harry sat up, stifled a yawn, and gave Ron a small smile.  
  
"Mum will probably be calling us for lunch soon," Ron said, his eyes resting, unfocused, on something across the room.  
  
Harry took his hand and squeezed it. "You'll get through this, Ron. I'll be right there with you."  
  
"Thanks. I love you, you know," said Ron, leaning forward to kiss Harry on the forehead.  
  
"I know, and I love you, too," Harry responded, placing a quick kiss on Ron's lips.  
  
They dressed without another word and went downstairs. The whole Weasley family was present, even Charlie.  
  
"There's that famous brother of mine!" Charlie said to Ron, as soon as he and Harry walked into the kitchen. "I heard you had a great game. Sorry I couldn't be there. I promise to be there for your next match, though."  
  
Ron forced a smile and poured himself a glass of orange juice. "Did you take care of those dragons?"  
  
"Yeah, finally. We were up all night trying to help the townspeople put out the fires, though. I didn't get in bed until late this morning, but I knew Mum wouldn't let me miss Sunday lunch for some silly thing like dragons," Charlie joked, casting an amused glance at Mrs. Weasley. She gave Charlie a dark look before loading his arms down with plates, knives, spoons, and forks.  
  
"Take these out to the garden," she instructed him. "Here, Ron, you and Harry take out some of the food," she said, gesturing to one end of the counter, which was completely filled with covered dishes.  
  
Soon they were all seated around the tables. Their plates were loaded down with food and everyone ate hungrily. Everyone except Ron and Harry, that is. Harry didn't have any sort of appetite, and he knew Ron felt even worse than he did. The talk was mainly about Ron and the Quidditch match. Whenever anyone praised Ron, which was about every minute or so, he forced a smile and nodded, but said nothing. For the first time in his life, Quidditch was the last thing on his mind.  
  
The plates were emptied all too soon, and Ron knew he couldn't put it off any longer. He wanted to get it over with before his nerves took over and he chickened out altogether. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Percy rose from the table.  
  
"Thank you for the delightful lunch, Mother," he said. "But I've got a few matters to attend to at home. Excuse me, please."  
  
But before Percy could Disapparate, Ron stood up. "Wait, Percy. I've got something to say, and as you're part of the family, you may as well stay to hear it." Percy looked confused for a moment, but sat back down without a word.  
  
The rest of them grew silent and all eyes turned to Ron. Harry's hands were sweating, and he began to frantically wipe them on his jeans.  
  
"Is something wrong, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her voice full of worry. "You look awfully pale."  
  
"No, Mum, nothing's wrong. There's just something I need to tell all of you." He cleared his throat and swallowed. This is it, Ron's actually going through with it, Harry thought.  
  
"You know Harry's been looking for a house, right?" They all nodded. "Well, I want to move in with him."  
  
Harry noticed Fred and George share a knowing smile, and saw Ginny put her fork down quietly. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, waiting for some kind of reaction. But there was none. It appeared that no one other than Fred and George understood what Ron was trying to say because Charlie, Bill, Percy, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley just looked at him with blank expressions.  
  
Ron sighed and picked at a place on the tablecloth. "What I'm trying to say," he started again, "is that Harry and I are together, in a relationship. As in 'more than friends,'" he added when he saw that they still didn't quite understand. Harry's mouth went dry, and he pushed his food around nervously with his fork.  
  
Ron's eyes moved from one face to the other, and at last he saw realization dawning on them. He sat down heavily. Though the table had been silent for the last few minutes, it was even more so now. Not only was no one saying anything, but it seemed that even the insects had stopped buzzing and the trees had stopped rustling. Harry grabbed Ron's hand under the table and pressed it supportively, almost crushing Ron's fingers in the process.  
  
"Hmm," said Mrs. Weasley, after several long moments of an uncomfortable silence. "I certainly didn't expect this."  
  
"You were probably the only one," scoffed Fred, though not loud enough for Mrs. Weasley to hear.  
  
"Arthur," she said, turning to her husband, "What do you think about this?"  
  
"Well," said Mr. Weasley slowly, "It's a shock, no doubt about that. Are you two serious about this?"  
  
Harry and Ron both nodded their heads earnestly. "We've been together for almost two years now," said Ron. This proclamation seemed almost as shocking as the fact that they were a couple, and Harry watched as the whole table, excluding Fred and George, gave a collective gasp.  
  
"All that time, and you haven't told us?" asked Mrs. Weasley, clearly upset.  
  
"We weren't sure how you'd react. We were afraid you wouldn't accept it," Ron said quickly.  
  
"I won't deny that this has come as a surprise," said Mr. Weasley, "but we love you, Ron, and we love Harry, too, and although this will take some getting used to, there's no way we'd disown either of you."  
  
Ron let out a sigh of relief. It was over with, he had done it, and his family hadn't completely freaked out. He couldn't help but feel proud of himself.  
  
Percy was the next to speak.  
  
"Thank you for your revelation, Ron," he said, "but I really must be going. I fully support you both, though, and admire your courage." He gave them a brief, but sincere, smile before Disapparating.  
  
They all shifted uneasily. Even now, no one knew exactly what to say.  
  
"Harry, have you found a house yet?" Mr. Weasley asked.  
  
Harry felt a hotness starting at his neck and creeping up to his face. Until now, Ron had been the one who everyone watched and questioned. He was more than a little uneasy when the stares were directed at him.  
  
"I think so, sir. I really like this one place, and I think Ron likes it, too." He glanced over at Ron, who nodded his head in agreement.  
  
"Yeah, Dad, we found a nice place, not too far from here."  
  
Mrs. Weasley looked slightly relieved that if they were both moving out, they wouldn't be too far for her to keep an eye on them.  
  
"And when do you plan on moving?" Mr. Weasley asked.  
  
"As soon as possible, sir. As long as it's ok with you," Harry quickly added.  
  
"It's ok with me. What do you think, Molly?" Mr. Weasley asked, turning to his wife.  
  
"Yes," she said slowly, "I guess it's ok. At least they'll be close by. It will definitely be quieter around the house," she finished sadly.  
  
"I suppose you'll need some help moving," said Charlie, breaking the tension. It was the first time he'd spoken since Ron's announcement. "I'll be glad to help if you'll tell me when."  
  
"Me, too," said Bill. "I must confess that I saw you two laying in Ron's bed last night. I hadn't really thought about it until then, but after that, I started thinking, and it was really quite obvious."  
  
This seemed to flick a switch in Mrs. Weasley's head. "I don't know if you and Harry ought to be sleeping in the same room," she said to Ron.  
  
"Mum!" cried Ron, thoroughly embarrassed.  
  
"Well, really, Ron, I don't know if it's appropriate."  
  
"Mum, we lived together for seven years at Hogwarts, and we're moving in together! I hardly think you need to worry about anything."  
  
Mrs. Weasley still didn't look happy about this arrangement, but Ron had a point, and she felt it was better not to argue.  
  
The sun was setting behind the house by now, and there were shadows in the garden.  
  
"I think we ought to take the food in, Molly, and put the tables away," said Mr. Weasley.  
  
"Yes, you're right, Arthur. Each of you, take a plate and bring it inside."  
  
They had their arms loaded down with plates and dishes and lined up in the kitchen, waiting to deposit their loads in the sink. When at last all the dishes and silverware were brought in to the kitchen and the tables were back in the shed, Ron told his parents that he and Harry were tired and were going upstairs.  
  
A flash of disapproval passed Mrs. Weasley's face, but she quickly turned it into a warm smile and said, "That's fine, Ron. You two sleep well." She turned to Harry, and Harry felt his stomach fall to the floor. "Harry, dear, sleep well, and Arthur and I will see you in the morning."  
  
"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he said, fully relieved.  
  
Once upstairs, Harry collapsed on his bed. He knew Ron had had a much more trying afternoon, but Harry was still emotionally exhausted. Ron locked the door, though Harry thought that was really unnecessary at this point, and flopped down on the mattress next to him, wrapping his arm around Harry's waist.  
  
"I'm so glad to have that over with," he said. "It didn't go too badly, did it?"  
  
"No, actually, it went a lot better than I thought it would. They seem ok with it, don't you think?"  
  
"Yeah, they seemed to handle it ok. They'll get more used to it over time." Ron wrapped his arms even tighter around Harry, and pulled him closer.  
  
Harry enjoyed the warm, familiar feeling of having Ron's arms around him, but he was still slightly freaked out about what Mr. and Mrs. Weasley would think was happening upstairs, and he didn't want to prove them right. When Ron moved even closer to him and started kissing slowly around his hairline and down the side of his face next to his ear, Harry pulled back.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ron," he said reluctantly, "but I'm afraid to do anything. I don't want anyone to hear us."  
  
"They won't hear us, Harry. I'll cast a Privacy Spell," Ron said.  
  
Although Harry knew that a Privacy Spell would prevent any sounds from escaping the bedroom, he was still unsure. Harry really wanted to be with Ron, but strange though it was, now that everyone knew about their relationship, he was hesitant. He could almost hear the conversation that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were sure to be having downstairs.  
  
Ron began pressing himself against Harry, and Harry no longer had any doubts about what Ron was expecting. Feeling Ron's fingers creeping slowly under his shirt certainly wasn't helping matters for Harry, either. He was highly interested, but something in the back of his mind kept him from acting solely upon his hormones. Harry pulled away slightly from Ron when he started sucking his neck.  
  
"C'mon, Harry," Ron whispered hoarsely into his ear. "It's been two weeks."  
  
Harry completely understood how Ron felt. They never went a full week without being together. In fact, with them sleeping in the same bed at Hogwarts, it was almost a nightly thing. But Harry was still tentative.  
  
"I think you ought to go back to your bed," he said, trying to sound firm, even though his voice was breaking.  
  
Apparently Ron got offended, because he got up instantly and left the room.  
  
"This is ridiculous, Harry," he said angrily.  
  
Harry shivered from the change in temperature. He guessed that Ron was headed to the bathroom. As hard as it was for Harry to stay there in Ron's bedroom, by himself, when he imagined what Ron was doing in the bathroom, he couldn't bear the thought of someone walking in or overhearing them. He didn't understand why he suddenly felt this way. He and Ron had done a variety of things, not only in Ron's bed, but on the floor, against the wardrobe, and on top of the bureau. But for some reason, it was different now. He couldn't wait until he and Ron moved into their house. Being able to ravage Ron whenever he wanted would never be a problem again. In fact, as Harry drifted off to sleep, he thought about having Ron in every room of the house.  
  
****  
  
Mrs. Weasley woke Harry up like she had done every morning since he moved in at the Burrow. He was happy to see that her attitude towards him hadn't changed. Once she had left, Harry grabbed his clothes and threw a longing glance at Ron. He had already forgotten about the fight that they had last night. Ron looked so warm and sleepy in his bed that Harry just couldn't resist walking over to him. He rubbed Ron's exposed shoulder before he could stop himself, and pulled back the covers to crawl in bed next to him. Ron's body was just as warm as Harry imagined it would be, and he snuggled closer, relishing it. He wrapped his arms slowly around Ron, trying hard not to wake him. He smelled of soap like he usually did, even though he hadn't had a shower since yesterday, and Harry couldn't help himself as he moved his head closer to Ron's neck and laid his chin against Ron's shoulder. Before Harry could get too comfortable, however, he heard footsteps coming softly up the stairs. He jerked the covers back and shot out of the bed. A second later, Mrs. Weasley opened the bedroom door.  
  
"Sorry to bother you, dear. I just wanted to make sure you were up," she whispered.  
  
"Yes, I'm up," Harry answered, thankful that the room was dark so she couldn't see his face. Or the rest of his body. He picked his clothes up off the floor where he had dropped them and proceeded to the bathroom to change.  
  
****  
  
When Harry walked into the Auror classroom on Monday, he saw that the desks had reassumed their position in the middle of the room, facing Adeline's. He also noticed that there was a large pewter cauldron on each one. Harry assumed that because they had spent an entire week on a single dark creature, Adeline thought it she ought to start them out on something else. While he appreciated her resourcefulness, he decided that she obviously hadn't heard about Neville's talent for blowing up stuff in Professor Snape's class. Harry cautiously took the desk in front of Neville.  
  
"H-h-harry," stammered Neville, "I'm not very good at Potions. You think I'll get kicked out of class?"  
  
Harry forced himself to smile and say, "You'll be fine, Neville. This isn't Snape's class, you know." The mention of Snape's name caused Neville to let out a squeak of terror. At almost the same moment, Adeline strode in and briskly turned to the class.  
  
"We're going to try something different today," she said. "Potion-making. I know you all studied this in school, but there are certain things that teachers are not allowed to teach you at school. I trust you are all familiar with Polyjuice Potion?" The class nodded. Harry thought he was probably more familiar with it than the rest of them.  
  
"Good," she continued, "This is the anti-serum for the Polyjuice Potion. It is called the Elemental Restorative. It can also be used for getting scorch marks out of bed sheets," she added blandly. " The members of the Department of Agriculture were kind enough to loan out part of their stores for the making of this potion. I have listed the ingredients and instructions on the blackboard. I highly doubt any of you have used these before, as they are carefully controlled, and off-limits to most students."  
  
Harry read over the list on the board behind her. She was right-he had only heard of two of them, and that was only because he, Ron, and Hermione had brewed Polyjuice Potion illegally in their second year.  
  
"The most important ingredient is Jobberknoll feathers. They are used in memory and truth serums. In the case of the Elemental Restorative, the drinker will only remember things about his or her true self. They will no longer remember who they are impersonating. Lovage is used in confusion and befuddlement draughts. When used in conjunction with the Jobberknoll feathers, the drinker will become confused about what they are trying to accomplish by impersonating someone else, and almost always blow their cover. Fluxweed and knotgrass are two of the basic ingredients in making Polyjuice Potion. You must have them in the Elemental Restorative for the potion to recognize what it is trying to counteract. Dittany is the catalyst. When added to the mixture, it will cause the ingredients to fuse together and become the true potion."  
  
Harry was getting nervous now. Potions was never his strongest subject, and this potion seemed not only difficult, but awfully dangerous if something were to go wrong. He turned his head slightly to the side, eyeing Neville. At least his arm was healed now, Harry thought. Adeline waved her wand, and bundles of feathers, roots, stems, and leaves appeared on each desk.  
  
"You will need to pluck the feathers and chop the plants carefully. Don't mutilate them. If the ingredients are not finely and evenly chopped, their properties will not be effective. They must also be measured carefully. Too much, or too little, could be disastrous."  
  
Harry swallowed hard and grabbed a handful of fluxweed. He started chopping it, careful to make sure all the pieces were the same size. But once he had cut the fluxweed and knotgrass, plucked the Jobberknoll feather, and diced the lovage, he began to realize that this was a very boring, monotonous job. His mind began wandering to Ron. He moved the dittany over in front of him and sliced it absentmindedly. This time next week, he hoped, he and Ron would be in their house. He thought about how warm and tempting Ron had looked this morning, and how much he had wanted to wedge himself between the blankets and lay with him all day. They could get away with that sometimes at Hogwarts. On the weekends, if the weather was nice, the other boys in the dorm would spend the day outside. He and Ron would feign going to the lake, but once the rest of the students had gone outside, they would double back to the dorms. They were almost always guaranteed a good four or five hours of mind-blowing sex. One time, though, it started to rain without warning, and Ron and Harry, who had been otherwise occupied, failed to hear it pounding the windows or to hear the footsteps coming back up the stairs to the dorm room. Dean and Seamus had opened the door and-  
  
"Potter!"  
  
Harry jerked his head up. Adeline was staring disapprovingly down at him, not unlike Snape did almost every time he saw Harry.  
  
"Potter, I have been trying to get your attention for several minutes now. I don't know where your mind was, but I suggest that you find it and bring it back to the task at hand."  
  
Harry's ears went red. He hoped Adeline wasn't an Occlumens like Snape.  
  
"As I was saying, Potter, you should all have your ingredients cut and ready to put into the cauldron. They ought to be added one at a time. The Jobberknoll feathers and the dittany will be the last two that you will add."  
  
With a soft poof, a fire was lit under Harry's cauldron, and he carefully raked the lovage off the cutting board and into the cauldron. Harry decided this was better than reading from the textbooks, though it wasn't really what he'd expected when he thought of Auror training. Admittedly, he had no desire to be the hero, but on the other hand, he always pictured himself doing something more exciting than cutting herbs.  
  
"If your potion is brewed correctly, it will be black and very thick. It should look smooth and glossy," Adeline informed them. "You should be ready to add your Jobberknoll feathers now. Add them slowly in small amounts."  
  
Harry took a pinch of his feathers and dropped them into the cauldron. The substance began to hiss and spark. But before he could see what else it was doing, there was an enormous sneeze behind him. He turned around quickly and saw Neville covering his nose with his hand. He was plastered in the potion. Evidently, he hadn't stopped the sneeze in time, and it had caused the potion to splash up on him. Adeline was at his side instantly.  
  
"You fool child, what have you done? This potion isn't complete. It is lethal in this stage." She swished her wand and the potion disappeared from Neville's face and robes. But it seemed to Harry as though the potion had already taken effect.  
  
Neville was looking at her like he had never seen a witch before. "Who are you, and why are you pointing that thing at me?" he blubbered. "Gran always said wasn't polite to point."  
  
Adeline looked exasperated. "Potter, here, take him to the infirmary. I don't have the means to cure him."  
  
Harry stared at her. Why did he have to take Neville? He didn't even know where the infirmary was.  
  
"Well, don't just stand there," Adeline said, annoyed. "Get him to a nurse! The infirmary is on the third level, off to the left of the main corridor. Go!"  
  
Harry took Neville by the arm and tried to lead him out of the room.  
  
"Where are we going?" Neville asked him. "I'm supposed to wait here for my Mum. She told me not to go anywhere or I might get lost."  
  
"It's ok, Neville," Harry whispered.  
  
"What did you call me?"  
  
Harry sighed. This was going to be a long day.  
  
He had eventually gotten Neville into the lifts. He insisted on being called Ernest and wouldn't answer when Harry called him by his real name. Harry had to convince him that his mum was waiting on the third level and that they were going to meet her. Neville seemed very skeptical, and Harry had to reassure him of this every couple of minutes.  
  
"Level three, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, including the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad, Obliviator Headquarters, and Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee," the cool female voice announced. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
He drug Neville out from the lifts just before the doors could close. He walked down the long hallway, glancing at the doors on his left. At the very end of the hall was the infirmary. It was stark white and completely sterile. Not unlike Aunt Petunia's kitchen, Harry thought with a grimace. Thankfully, the place seemed be empty except for a few nurses. Harry walked up to the first one he saw, pulling Neville by the arm.  
  
"He had a bad encounter with a partially finished Elemental Potion," Harry told her.  
  
She clucked her disapproval. "He's too young to be learning that. They bring in children to do an adult's job. Regardless, take him into that first room over there, and I'll be with you in a minute."  
  
Neville tried to push Harry's hand off his arm and started digging his heels into the floor.  
  
"I'm not going in there, I'm not going. You can't make me."  
  
"Come on, Ernest." Harry felt so silly calling him that. "Nothing's going to happen to you. I'll stay with you, ok?"  
  
Neville looked hesitatingly for a moment, but then agreed to follow Harry. The nurse was true to her word and showed up after a few moments. She carried a metal tray with a small vial of dark liquid.  
  
"Here, drink this," she said to Neville, holding the small bottle out in front of him.  
  
Neville pursed his lips together and shook his head vigorously.  
  
"It's just charcoal, it won't hurt you," the nurse said. She had obviously had difficult patients before, because she grabbed Neville around the shoulders with one arm and forced the liquid in his mouth with the other. Neville gave a great lurch and fell backwards onto the bed. He lay rigid for a moment before he sat up and shook his head.  
  
"What happened?" he asked with bewildered expression on his face.  
  
"I think you sneezed or something, and that potion blew up on you," Harry told him.  
  
"I'm allergic to Jobberknoll feathers," he said. "Gran always used to warn me about them, but I didn't want Adeline to think I wasn't up to making the potion. I was already worried that she'd think I didn't belong here."  
  
The nurse smiled sympathetically. "You'll need to stay here for a few more hours. I'll need to monitor you to make sure you don't have anymore adverse reactions to the potion." She turned to Harry and said, "It's almost lunch time. You can go. He'll be fine now."  
  
Harry waved good-bye to Neville and walked down to the lifts. They clattered downward, and he got off on the first level, headed for the cafeteria. He grabbed his corned beef sandwich out of the coolers, and walked to the corner table where he, Neville, and Hermione usually sat. Hermione wasn't there yet, so he sat down alone and began eating. Hermione joined him a short while later.  
  
"Where's Neville?" she asked.  
  
"We were learning how to make the Elemental Restorative," he started, but Hermione interrupted him.  
  
"Oooh, I've read about that one. It's supposed to be very complicated, isn't it?"  
  
"Yeah, it is. I didn't get all my Jobberknoll feathers added. I'm afraid to see what's happened to it. But anyway, Neville had some kind of reaction to one of the ingredients and I had to take him to the infirmary."  
  
"He's going to be ok, isn't he?" she wondered.  
  
"Yeah, I think he's going to be fine. The nurse just wanted to keep him for observation."  
  
"Oh, well, that's good. How are you and Ron?" Hermione asked about them almost everyday, and Harry couldn't help but feel a certain gratitude towards her.  
  
"We're good. We found a house."  
  
"Oh, Harry, that's great!" she exclaimed, grabbing his arm painfully.  
  
"We told Mr. and Mrs. Weasley about us, too."  
  
Hermione's eyes grew to about twice their normal size. "You told them?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.  
  
"We did. Yesterday. They seemed ok with it. They said it was alright for us to move in together. We're going to the realtor today to sign the papers."  
  
"I'm so happy for both of you!" She said, clapping her hands together. "Where is it?"  
  
"It's next to Stoatshead Hill, on the opposite side of town from the Burrow."  
  
"Mrs. Weasley must like that," Hermione said.  
  
"I think that's what really sold her on it. If everything goes ok, we plan on moving in this weekend," Harry told her.  
  
"Let me know if you need any help. I know I can't do a lot with the moving process, but if you need me, I'll be happy to come by."  
  
"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said. Although she could be an insufferable know-it-all, Hermione was one of his best friends, and she had been more than open-minded when he had talked to her about his feelings towards Ron. Harry appreciated her understanding more than he could ever tell her.  
  
He had just finished his last drink of pumpkin juice when he looked at the clock and realized that lunch was over.  
  
"I've got to go now, Hermione, but I'll let you know if we need anything. Thanks," he said again.  
  
He went back up the lifts and walked in the classroom. Adeline was already there when he arrived.  
  
"Potter," she said, as soon as Harry had walked in, "how is Longbottom?"  
  
"I think he'll be ok, ma'am," Harry said. "The nurse just wanted to keep him for observation."  
  
"Good, good," she said absentmindedly. "I have been here keeping an eye on the potions. Yours seems to be ok, Potter. But I'd advise you keep a better watch on it from now on."  
  
Harry stared after her. She was the one after all, that had told him to take Neville to the infirmary. He looked at his potion. It seemed ok. It was black and smooth, and smoked like tar. Adeline turned to the class.  
  
"It must simmer for a few hours. It needs to be stirred randomly."  
  
Harry stirred it and watched the clock.  
  
At last Adeline said, "Leave a sample on my desk. I will test it and give you the results later. You may go."  
  
Harry was so glad this day was over. He liked Neville, sure, but his idea of a good day wasn't laboring over pointless potions and being with Neville in the infirmary. He and Ron had too much to do.  
  
Chapter 4, Part 2 He arrived back at the Burrow via Floo Powder. There was no one in the living room when he arrived, so he crept silently upstairs, hoping Ron would be there. Ron had apparently gotten over their argument last night also, because as soon as Harry entered the room, Ron threw his arms around him and hugged him tight.  
  
"I'm sorry about last night, Harry," Ron apologized. "I wasn't thinking clearly. You're not mad, are you?"  
  
Harry could never be mad at Ron, even when he was being a prat.  
  
"Of course not." Harry roped his arms around Ron's waist and licked Ron's lips before giving him a kiss. "Are you ready? We've got to go sign for the house."  
  
After a lingering kiss, Ron said, "Sure, mate."  
  
He and Ron met with Madam LaMaison one last time. She had some papers for them to sign and was also advising them on the financial aspects. Harry told her that he was going to use the gold his parents had left him to pay for the house. Ron made an indignant protest, and when Harry looked over at him, he could tell that Ron was about to get really upset over this. He asked Madame LaMaison if they could have a moment outside. Harry walked out into the hall and shut the door quietly when Ron joined him.  
  
"Look, Ron, just let me do this. I don't care about the money."  
  
But Ron, who always had a sore spot where money was concerned, wouldn't hear of it.  
  
"No, Harry. This is our house, not just yours. If I'm going to live here, I'm going to pay for it just like you are."  
  
Ron was nothing if not stubborn. Harry knew there wasn't much use in arguing with him, but he also knew that Ron didn't have that much money up front. While Ron had acquired a fairly good salary when he signed with the Cannons, the Cannons weren't exactly the most profitable team.  
  
At last Harry suggested, "How about we pay for it monthly and split the amount between us?"  
  
This seemed to satisfy Ron, as he simply nodded and walked back into Madame LaMaison's office.  
  
"Everything ok, boys?" she asked.  
  
"Yes, ma'am, everything's fine," Harry told her. "Would it be alright if we just made monthly payments?"  
  
"Certainly."  
  
They signed paper after paper, and just before Harry thought his elbow might give out, Madame LaMaison stood up and presented them with the keys to the house.  
  
"Here you are, my dears! The place is all yours!"  
  
The keys were jingling and glinting in her outstretched arm. Harry raised his arm timidly and took them from her, then clutched them tightly in his hand. The house was theirs at last.  
  
"Thank you, ma'am," Harry said.  
  
They had barely stepped out of the office and back into the sunlit street when Harry attacked Ron with a hug. Ron threw his hands out against the brick wall behind him to steady himself. He was delighted, but slightly taken aback, because he and Harry had never displayed their affections in public.  
  
"Isn't this great?" Harry asked, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "The house is all ours now! All we've got to do is move in."  
  
It seemed to take a minute for Ron to comprehend it all. He'd never had much of anything, and here he was with a nice, new house. What made it even more wonderful was the fact that Harry was sharing it with him. Ron smiled and kissed him deeply, his lips staying longer than was decent, no longer worried about who might see them.  
  
The next stop was the furniture store. Harry didn't have any furniture of his own. Ron had a few worn-down pieces, but not nearly enough to fill an entire house. They had initially planned on going to Diagon Alley, but it was too far away when it came to transporting large items. There were no wizarding furniture stores in Ottery St. Catchpole, so they were forced to choose a Muggle shop. The shop was really big, almost like a warehouse, and Harry silently wondered if even Diagon Alley would've had so much to choose from. They were going to use Ron's bed, wardrobe, and bureau-mainly for sentimental reasons- but they needed basically everything else. They started at one side of the store and worked their way over. Harry hoped Ron wouldn't be too picky about things. He wanted everything to be simple and comfortable, nothing flashy and nothing too expensive. Several hours later, their heads spinning with colors, fabrics, carvings, and shapes, they left the store and walked back to the Burrow. Because it was a Muggle store and they obviously couldn't use magic, they had arranged for the movers to come over the next three evenings, until all the furniture was moved in. Harry was thankful it was all over, though. He had no idea shopping could be so draining.  
  
****  
  
The rest of the week was extremely busy for Harry, between working and trying to move. The Weasleys had been true to their word, though. Not only did they seem perfectly accepting of Harry and Ron's relationship, but they worked almost tirelessly at helping them move. Even Charlie seemed to make time to help.  
  
Every evening after work, they would scarf down dinner and go over to their house to move the newest arrival of furniture. Everything had to be moved the Muggle way, and even though they had three movers from the furniture store helping them, Harry could tell it was going to take several days to get it all done. They would barely get the truck emptied before it became too dark to see.  
  
On Thursday evening, the movers came with the last truckload.  
  
"Where do you want these?" Charlie asked Ron. He was carrying two small wooden tables.  
  
"Just put them in the living room," Ron told him. "We'll sort it out later."  
  
The problem was, they had piled up most of the stuff in the living room, and it was almost full. Charlie lifted the tables up over his head and wound his way through the crowded living room and down the hall to one of the bedrooms.  
  
"I'm putting them back here," he called to Ron, setting the tables down.  
  
"We'll need to get you connected to the Floo Network, of course," Mr. Weasley was telling Harry. "I'll speak to someone in that department tomorrow. I'm sure if I tell them it's for Harry Potter, they'll have you connected by tomorrow afternoon." Mr. Weasley winked at him. Harry rolled his eyes, but gave him a smile.  
  
Bill brought in the last of the truckload, two chairs with squashy cushions, and placed them in the kitchen with about ten other pieces.  
  
The only thing left in Ron's room at the Burrow was the bed. They'd move that tomorrow evening. They had to remove Harry's mattress in order to move all the other stuff out. This worked nicely for Harry and Ron, as they had a built- in excuse for sleeping in the same bed. It was a little uncomfortable, though, when Mrs. Weasley came in to wake Harry in the morning. It seemed as though she was afraid of seeing something that might scare her, because she opened the door only wide enough to peer in.  
  
****  
  
By the time he got off work on Friday afternoon, Harry was exhausted. Between work and moving, he'd hardly had a spare moment. After eating, they went back over to the house to finish the remainder of the moving. All that was left to do was move it from the living room into the other rooms. With the movers gone, though, they could use magic. Mrs. Weasley suggested that they each take a room instead of being in each other's way while trying to get all the furniture arranged.  
  
"We'll take the bedroom!" called George. He and Fred started laughing, and Harry glared at them. He wished they wouldn't say things like that in front of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.  
  
The living room was cleared at last, and each of the other rooms were furnished. Mrs. Weasley looked around, clearly trying to find something else that needed to be done. She didn't seem like she was ready to leave just yet, but as much as Harry loved her and appreciated all her help, he was ready for her to leave. In fact, he was ready for all of them to leave so he and Ron could be alone. It would be the first time they'd ever been by themselves in their new house.  
  
After a moment, Mr. Weasley seemed to catch on to what Mrs. Weasley was trying to do.  
  
"Molly," he said, walking up to her and putting an arm around her shoulder, "I think we ought to go now. Everything's finished, and I bet the boys would like some time to themselves. We've all had a very busy week."  
  
"Yeah, Mum," said Bill, "they're going to be fine. Don't worry."  
  
Mrs. Weasley still looked reluctant, but what Mr. Weasley had said made sense. She walked over to Ron and threw her arms around his neck, nearly choking him.  
  
"Oh, Ron," she wailed, "You're so grown up now, with your own house and everything. I do hope you'll be ok. You know where I am if you ever need me. I can't believe I'm having to let you go. You're my baby!" She pulled away from him at last and covered her face in her handkerchief, sobbing loudly. Ron scratched his head and looked embarrassed. Mrs. Weasley hugged Ron again, and then grabbed Harry.  
  
"We're going to miss you. You're a part of the family," she cried. She cast one last look at Ron and told Harry, "You take care of my baby, you hear me?"  
  
Harry laughed and said, "Yes, ma'am."  
  
Mr. Weasley shook Ron and Harry's hand and wished them good luck before he and Mrs. Weasley Disapparated. Bill and Charlie took that as a hint for them to leave also.  
  
"Good luck, guys," Bill told them. "We'll stop by and see you sometime soon. But don't worry, it won't be anytime in the next few days," he laughed.  
  
Charlie shook each of their hands and Disapparated with Bill. The twins were the only ones who were still there. They smirked proudly and walked up to Harry and Ron.  
  
"Got any plans for tonight, boys?" Fred joked.  
  
Harry and Ron both shot him annoyed looks.  
  
"Don't worry, we're leaving," George said. "Trust me, we want to get out of here before anything happens. It could scar us for life, you know." With that, they both Disapparated.  
  
Harry and Ron were alone at last. After seven years of being at Hogwarts with three other guys, and after several weeks of living at the Burrow with a house full of Weasleys, they were alone. Harry didn't waste any time. He pushed Ron roughly down to the couch and covered Ron's mouth instantly with his. Ron returned the kiss, just as eager as Harry to make the most of every second that they had. When they broke apart several breathless moments later, Ron rolled Harry over so that their positions were reversed and Ron was on top.  
  
"As much as I want to continue this," he breathed heavily, "there's something I want to show you. Come here."  
  
He got up and grabbed Harry by the hand. Harry crinkled his brow. He didn't appreciate being interrupted. Ron walked Harry down the hallway to the master bedroom. But before they got too close, Ron stepped behind Harry and put his hands over Harry's eyes.  
  
"What are you playing at?" Harry asked him.  
  
"Just wait, you'll see. Keep walking to the bedroom."  
  
"I can't walk if I can't see," Harry told him.  
  
"It's ok, I won't let you bump into anything. I'm right behind you."  
  
And sure enough, Harry could feel Ron pressed right up against him, his body heat mingling with Harry's, guiding him into the bedroom.  
  
"Ok," Ron said when they walked in the room. "Look."  
  
Ron removed his hands from Harry's eyes. Harry stood there dumbly with his mouth open. Over in the corner, where he thought they had put Ron's tiny bed, was the largest feather bed Harry had ever seen. Harry couldn't believe it. He had wanted one, sure, but he hadn't thought of getting one yet. It was a four-poster, just like the ones they had at Hogwarts, only much, much bigger.  
  
"Ron, where.when." Harry started. But Ron interrupted him.  
  
"Don't ask questions. We've already wasted too much time talking."  
  
And with that, he knocked Harry down to the bed and kissed him passionately. Harry put his hands under Ron's shirt and rubbed his back, pulling their bodies closer. Ron pulled back only slightly and ran his tongue over Harry's lips before kissing him again. Ron raised Harry's shirt and pressed his hands over Harry's chest. Harry moaned against Ron's lips. That seemed to encourage Ron, as his lips left Harry's mouth and went to his neck. He picked an innocent-looking area and placed a light kiss on it. Then he placed his lips firmly around that spot and began sucking. Harry ran his hands through Ron's hair, and grabbed a handful of it at the base of his neck. Ron gave Harry a quick kiss on the mouth. Their lips parted suddenly, and Harry leaned forward instinctively, trying to join them again. But then he felt something warm and wet moving leisurely down his stomach. Harry gave a low moan. Ron placed the tips of his fingers under the waistband of Harry's jeans and gave a small tug, but stopped abruptly.  
  
"This is nice, isn't it?" he asked. "Not having to listen for footsteps, or worrying about locking the door." Harry could feel Ron breathing softly on his stomach.  
  
"Yeah," Harry said, "and we don't have to worry about being quiet anymore. I can make as much noise as I want to. Now keep going. No more talking."  
  
Harry was thankful that the Burrow was on the opposite side of town because he had made a lot of noise that night.  
  
Harry woke up a few hours later. His arm jerked involuntarily and felt Ron next to him. He could hear his breath coming softly from his mouth and could feel his warmth, and Harry couldn't do anything but scoot even nearer to him and wrap his arms around him. Ron didn't seem to wake up, so Harry moved his head closer and buried it in Ron's neck. This is what he wanted-having a whole night with Ron, without worrying about someone bursting in on them. Laying so close to him gave Harry a perfect peace, and he fell asleep again, thinking how lucky he was.  
  
When Harry woke up again, it was Ron's face he saw. Ron was out of the bed, but leaning over Harry.  
  
"Hey," he said, "wake up. It's almost noon. There's breakfast." He kissed Harry before leaving the room.  
  
As much as Harry wanted to join him, he took a moment to look around the room and let it all sink in. He and Ron finally had all the privacy they'd ever wanted. No one was there but the two of them. Harry rolled over on his pillow to look at the place where Ron had slept. It wasn't warm anymore, but there was still an indentation in the pillow where his head had been. Harry breathed in deeply. Ron called him again from the kitchen, and Harry reluctantly flung his covers off and got out of bed. His body was sore, and he felt like he'd played a week-long Quidditch match. He scavenged around on the floor, trying to find his discarded clothing.  
  
He walked down the hallway and into the kitchen. Ron sat there at the table, a large plate of hot cakes in front of him.  
  
"You cooked?" Harry asked, bewildered.  
  
"No way," Ron answered almost indignantly. "Mum brought these. We must've been in bed because she left a note. Here." He threw out his hand and Harry grabbed the piece of paper.  
  
I thought you might want breakfast. You were sleeping so  
soundly when I arrived, I didn't want to wake you. I know  
strawberries are your favorite, Harry. I hope you and Ron  
enjoy them. If you need anything, let me know.  
  
Love,  
Mum  
  
Harry put the letter down and looked at the stack of hot cakes. He would no doubt enjoy them. He grabbed a fork and pulled up a chair next to Ron. About that time, Harry spotted a plastic bottle of what had to be strawberry syrup.  
  
"Did your mum bring this, too?" he asked. Ron nodded.  
  
Harry took the bottle and poured the syrup on his hot cakes, completely drenching them.  
  
"These are really good," he told Ron, his voice muffled by the food.  
  
Ron had his mouth full, too, and was polite enough to nod instead of speaking.  
  
Harry ate the hot cakes, and once he was done, he reached for the bottle again.  
  
He tipped it up and let it dribble on Ron's hand. It ran down between his fingers and on to the table.  
  
"Oops, I'm sorry," he said, with a fake apology. Ron looked at him strangely for a moment before catching on.  
  
Harry leaned his head downwards slowly and licked the syrup off of Ron's hand, sucking one finger at a time. Ron gasped, but Harry smiled to himself and continued until all of it was gone.  
  
"You taste so good," Harry said in a low voice, throwing his eyes up to Ron's face.  
  
Something about that look caused Ron to dart from his chair and land in Harry's lap.  
  
"Let me try some on you," he said eagerly.  
  
Ron took the bottle and watched as it dribbled slowly up Harry's arm. A few ribbons trailed off and splattered on the floor. Ron grabbed Harry's wrist and gave it a loud slurp. It tickled, and Harry gave an involuntary jerk. He lost his balance, and grabbed on to Ron to stop himself from falling. But it was too late. He had pulled Ron out of the chair with him, and they landed hard on the floor with a dull thump. Harry started laughing, but he was silenced when Ron kissed him again. Ron's mouth tasted like strawberries, and Harry licked around his lips before plunging in and kissing him again, using his tongue to reach as deep in Ron's mouth as he could.  
  
Harry decided that more strawberry syrup was in order, and he reached his arm up to the table, blindly searching for it. His fingers found it, but in his eagerness to grab it, he knocked it off the table. The sound of the bottle hitting the floor disrupted their kiss. The cap had popped off, and Harry watched as the substance oozed thickly onto the floor and into the fabric of his shirt.  
  
He wasn't sure what made him do it, but he stretched his other arm over and grabbed a handful of the sticky goop. Before Ron knew what was happening, Harry was rubbing his hand, syrup and all, in Ron's face.  
  
"Hey, what did you do that for?" Ron asked, his voice muffled by Harry's palm.  
  
"I don't know. I just felt like it," Harry smirked.  
  
"Oh, yeah? How do you like this?"  
  
It was Ron's turn to take a handful of syrup and smear it in Harry's face. Harry shrieked with laughter, and tried to wriggle away from Ron, but found himself actually wallowing further into the red, sugary mess that was slowly covering the floor. He tried to grip Ron's wrists and force him off, but Ron was heavier than he was, and he wasn't going to let Harry go anywhere. They were rolling around on the floor, their arms and legs thrashing in every direction, completely covered in the gooey mess.  
  
Ron had at last overpowered Harry, and he pinned his arms down above his head. He kissed Harry fiercely, almost smothering him. Just before Harry thought he might black out from lack of oxygen, Ron let him go. He put his forehead against Harry's shoulder and lay there, trying to catch his breath. Harry was breathing just as hard, and it was a moment before either one of them could speak.  
  
"Look what you've done to my kitchen," he said jokingly.  
  
"Look what you've done to me," Ron squeaked.  
  
He made a grunting sound as he stood up, and offered a hand to Harry. They really did look quite ridiculous. One whole side of Harry's shirt hung lop-sided where it was practically seeped in syrup. His jeans, and Ron's too, for that matter, were splattered with large red splotches, and stuck to them in awkward angles. Ron's hair looked worse than Harry's usually did, and it stood out stiffly in all directions.  
  
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment before he glanced at Ron.  
  
"Shower," they ordered simultaneously.  
  
Later that evening Ron led Harry out onto the back porch. It had started raining, though not too hard, and the raindrops made a nice sound as they hit against the leaves. He sat down in one of the chairs and pulled Harry into his lap. Harry leaned into him, and Ron wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders.  
  
"You were right," Ron said.  
  
"Right about what?" asked Harry, not bothering to raise his head.  
  
"About that shower. Two people really do fit perfectly."  
  
Harry laughed. "I told you."  
  
It began to rain a little harder, and a light mist was gathering on the ground. Harry snuggled closer to Ron and felt his arms tighten around him. Ron leaned down and kissed Harry on the top of head. The sound of the rain was making him sleepy and closed his eyes. He breathed in Ron's scent, which always smelled of soap, and thought to himself that he was truly and completely happy for the first time that he could remember. 


End file.
